


"A lass unparallel'd"

by missdibley



Series: The Chicago Quarto [1]
Category: British Actor RPF, Crimson Peak (2015), Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Afterlife, Crimson Peak, Cumbria, F/M, Ghosts, Shakespeare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-06-04 03:46:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6640102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missdibley/pseuds/missdibley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aure Saverin finds herself brooding on the state of her after-life with Sir Thomas Sharpe on a fine spring day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"A lass unparallel'd"

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first of a series of drabbles featuring Tom and his characters inspired by the 400th anniversary of the death of Shakespeare.

_Now boast thee, death, in thy possession lies_  
_A lass unparallel'd.  
_ (Antony and Cleopatra, 5.2.3782-3783)

* * *

Spring came early to Cumbria the year after Aure Saverin died in the ruins of what had once been Allerdale Hall. Among the meadows that sat in the valley below Crimson Peak now were wood anemones and marsh marigolds, globeflowers and Lady’s mantle. The preponderance of red clover among the flowers made the landscape especially rosy in the early morning light.

If Aure was disappointed that in this afterlife there was no sign of magic or otherworldly powers, she concealed it well. She had hoped that destroying Lady Sharpe’s ring, thus banishing Lucille’s malevolent spirit forever, might summon something in her. Something powerful and new.

Aure did not expect to be rewarded for her deed. But she did long for transformation. She felt good and secure in Thomas’s love. That did not, however, stop her from endeavoring to be worthy of it.

Her purpose really had been to set Thomas free. Free him from his cursed past, and send him on to something greater. It was what her great-grandmother Edith would have done, she was sure. It was as if Edith’s love for Thomas had brought Aure to England. Had it been her destiny too to die there? Was that Edith’s gift, or her curse?

One day Aure’s ramble brought her to the edge of a clearing. Her spirit hid among the shadows of trees whose branches were just beginning to show leaves. In the center of the clearing was a group of young men. They lay stretched out on bedrolls, yawning and waiting expectantly for the campfire to finish heating their kettle for tea.

One of their number, still dressed in the long johns he had worn for his pajamas, recited lines to the delight of his friends. He was beautiful, with dark hair that contrasted well with his bright green eyes and pink cheeks. Clutching a rock cake, he held it aloft, addressing it as though he were Hamlet and the cake was the infamous skull:

 _Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio: a fellow  
_ _of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy: he hath  
_ _borne me on his back a thousand times; and now, how  
_ _abhorred in my imagination it is! my gorge rims at  
_ _Here hung those lips that I have kissed I know_  
not how oft.

Before he could continue, someone threw a boot at him, knocking the cake out of his hand. He flushed but then joined his comrades in laughter. When the water boiled, and the tea was poured, they raised their tin cups. A toast to the Bard, and his legacy, then a toast to the beauty of the country. Before too long they were packing up their site to continue hiking through the woods. As soon as they disappeared into the trees, Aure took her leave as well.

She was thoughtful on the walk home, so consumed in thought that she nearly lost her way. Everybody knew who Shakespeare was. He had authored numerous plays and poetry, introduced words and turns of phrase to the common lexicon, and changed the way people spoke the English language. He didn’t just change the way people spoke but the very language itself, and in doing so changed the world.

She chided herself for being envious, but she couldn’t help it. Aure didn’t leave behind much of a CV, let alone a legacy. She was only a few years out of school, tagging along on her former fiance Ted’s pursuit of his dream. He had wanted to be a ghost hunter of all things, and it was this ambition that enabled Aure to Allerdale to meet her fate.  The only thing she and Shakespeare had in common was they were both dead.

She stopped at a stream, considering her reflection in the rushing water. Same black hair that was still prone to be frizzy in the damp. Dark eyes with lashes that were too thin. Round cheeks and small lips, covered with a smattering of freckles. Her body was the same, with a rounded belly and breasts that she felt were too small for Thomas’s large, beautiful hands. This was her physical incarnation at the moment of her passing, and would look like this forever. She shook her head, then continued her journey.

Still lost in thought, it took Aure a while to notice that the flowers, the anemones and the marigolds and the clover, did not drop off in number the closer she got to Allerdale. The grounds of the estate weren’t sparse, exactly, but they were not given to flower as wildly as the meadows and the fields. She was used to seeing patches of dirt among the green, even in the midst of summer. But it was only late April, and there were already flowers everywhere. On either side of the dirt path that led her from the gate to the mansion, they welcomed her back.

Just inside the door, Thomas stood waiting with a curious smile on his face. Dark and handsome, just as he was the night he appeared at the inn to claim her. The scars inflicted upon him by Lucille’s blade were hardly visible. Dressed in a white shirt, black waistcoat with matching trousers, and sturdy leather boots, Thomas’s hands were clasped behind his waist. As soon as Aure was within reach, he showed her the flowers in his hand before taking her in his arms.

“Darling, this is getting ridiculous.” Thomas closed his eyes and murmured against her ear.

“What is?” Aure turned her head, surprised to find that the flowers sprouted from corners in the great hall. Her eyes wide with wonder, she could only gasp in astonishment. “How did they get here? Did you pick these?”

“I didn’t,” replied Thomas. He tucked a small white blossom behind her ear. “They started growing closer to the house. I only noticed it a few days ago myself. And then today, while you were out on your walk, they decided to make themselves at home.”

“Huh.” Aure took note of the sparkle in his eyes. “Are you sure it wasn’t you who did this? Is that what you’ve been working on? A machine to harvest and bring all these flowers in?”

“What do I know of flowers? I know much of the clay, of course, and our home. But this…” He swept his arm around. “This is beyond me.”

Aure slipped out of Thomas’s arms, kneeling to the floor to pick up a loose flower that had fallen out of the bouquet he held. She crushed it between her fingertips, and was at once overcome with a feeling of sensuality. The fragrance was strong, sweet but not cloying. Aure felt pleasantly dizzy, almost drunk on its scent.

“But I haven’t been doing anything different, or special,” she murmured. “Going on my walks. Enjoying the woods. Admiring the flowers.” When she looked up to meet his gaze, she found Thomas smiling down at her.

“I guess it was mutual, love. They admired you, too.” He nuzzled her cheek. “So much so that they had to come live with you.”

“You know, if these were some homely mushrooms, or even mold growing we wouldn’t feel so tenderly about it.” Aure threw her head back and laughed when he nipped at her jaw.

“Mold, things like that, they can only flourish amongst decay. With the dead, or the dying.” Thomas whispered. “Flowers are for the living.”

“Do these flowers know that we’re dead?” Aure mused. “Do you think they mind?”

Thomas pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“There’s love here, Aure.”

Wrapping his arms around her, he hummed a lullaby and began to sway with Aure gently.

“And where there is love…” He kissed her lips gently. “There too is life. And we have all of it in abundance.”


End file.
